


Take This First Day

by pipisafoat



Series: Abby Lyman [13]
Category: The West Wing
Genre: Anxiety Disorder, Canon Disabled Character, Disability, Disabled Character, F/M, Gen, Oval Office, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Service Animals, Service Dogs, White House, invisible disability, invisible illness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-07
Updated: 2018-01-07
Packaged: 2019-03-01 18:23:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13300653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pipisafoat/pseuds/pipisafoat
Summary: It’s hardly his first time staffing the President, but he’s acting as hesitantly as he did on day one. Having Abby with him isn’t supposed to change what he’s able to do, but there’s insidious insecurity anyway.&He’s spent all day away from his desk, and it’s clear. Donna’s always done everything but meet with people to keep his desk clear on days he’s staffed the President, and now that he and Leo have approved her to meet with whomever she deems necessary and feels confident seeing, she’s managed to entirely run his office for the full day.





	Take This First Day

**Author's Note:**

> Content Warning: Josh's verbal descriptions of PTSD/Anxiety episodes. Not super graphic, but beyond "and then he had a panic attack".
> 
> It seems like there's a scene missing. That scene will stay missing. Probably forever, but I try not to make promises about what I will or won't write. The point is, there are two scenes in this fic, and an important scene that happened between the two written scenes, and no you're not missing anything when you start to wonder.

“Josh, hang back a minute,” Leo says at the end of the morning senior staff meeting in his office.

Josh meets Sam’s eyes and shrugs. Sam nods and turns to leave; whatever he wanted to tell Josh can wait until later in the day. Josh waits until all of Leo’s doors are shut to speak. “What is it? I’m supposed to staff the President today.”

Leo makes eye contact with him, looking totally unimpressed. “I know, Josh. Did you really think I’d forgotten?” Josh opens his mouth to reply, chagrin on his face, but Leo continues without letting him respond. “I need to talk to you about Donna’s new title and job responsibilities. The President is aware you might be delayed.”

“She did really, really well covering for me,” Josh offers. They’d saved the more difficult Senators and Congressmen for him, but she’d gotten no less than he would have for each job they’d given her and the few she’d picked up on her own insight. In a couple of cases, she’d gotten more than Josh thinks he could have.

Leo nods and starts glancing at papers in front of him as he speaks, sorting them into two piles. “She did. I won’t put her at the level of my assistants, never getting any time with me and never working directly with Congress.”

“Special Deputy,” Josh offers, wondering why Leo is asking for his input. The small group of people who report directly to Leo have no dealings with the Deputy Chief of Staff. Granted, Donna is coming from his office, but it still doesn’t make sense to him. Leo’s capable of appointing people; Josh has seen him do it without pause.

“There aren’t any Special Deputy spots open, at least no physical space for her in the room, and I want her closer to you than they are, since she’ll be working with you more often than not. Coordinating domestic policy with you directly.” Leo sets down the papers and looks Josh in the eye. “If I give her desk space in the bullpen outside your office, will you be able to treat her as my Senior Special Deputy for Legislative Affairs, or is she going to be your assistant still?

Josh nods once, firmly. “It won’t be a problem. I’m sure I’ll sometimes call for Donna when I mean to call my new assistant, but that’s changing my habits and not having an issue with her move. You know that she’s handling my office today? Including taking meetings. I don’t have a problem with her taking this job. If she can take some of the domestic load off me, I can finally get in the room on all the foreign policy I haven’t been able to help with. Lighten your load a bit and be better prepared in case you take a vacation or if something happens.”

Leo jerks his attention from the papers he’d picked up again and stares at Josh. “You … That … What do you mean?”

He shifts uncomfortably and looks down at the floor before swallowing hard and fixing his gaze on his mentor. “If you got sick today, logically I’m the one who would step in until you came back, as your deputy. I’m up to speed on everything domestic we’re working on, but honestly, I don’t know anything but the broadest strokes regarding foreign policy. I know you can’t tell me everything from the Situation Room, but I feel like I would be better serving you and the President if I could step into your shoes on a moment’s notice. None of my deputies could do it for me, but they’re all specialized, and we know Donna could take over my job temporarily at least. So tell me if you have another plan in place for you getting sick, and I’ll forget this, but it seems like the best way forward to me.”

There’s a long moment of silence with Leo’s brow furrowed and Josh watching him think with a hand threaded through Abby’s neck fur to ground himself against anxiety. “Let’s discuss that later,” Leo finally says. “I’ll see to it that a desk opens up for her this week. When is the new hire coming?”

“Thursday,” Josh replies, then he hesitates so visibly that Leo raises his eyebrows in question. “Are … Will you give her a pay raise? She really deserves it.” And she could stand to stop stealing dresses for one night, he thinks to himself. Most of them look so good on her that he wishes she’d buy them for herself.

Leo smiles. “Absolutely. Now go do a job.” He jerks his head at the door connecting his office to the Oval Office.

Josh nods silently to him as he snaps his fingers twice. Abby jumps immediately to her feet and heels beautifully as Josh walks across the room, through the two doors, and stops on the threshold of the Oval Office.

“Josh! Come in, come in,” the President calls from his desk, picking up one sheet of paper and heading toward the younger man.

“Good morning, sir,” Josh replies, taking a couple of slow steps into the office. It’s hardly his first time staffing the President, but he’s acting as hesitantly as he did on day one. Having Abby with him isn’t supposed to change what he’s able to do, but there’s insidious insecurity anyway.

“A good morning to you as well. Tell me, is this a day when the staff has placed bets on my mood? How much have you made, or perhaps lost?”

Josh freezes, and while Abby looks at him curiously, she doesn’t alert. “Uh … sir….”

President Bartlet laughs. “Relax, Josh, I’ve known about that particular betting pool for at least a year. Now come in and close the door. I’m sure Leo has better things to do than listen to us.”

“Yes, sir.” He drops Abby’s leash, tells her to stay, and turns to shut both doors. When he has her hand the leash back to him, he hesitates again. Her things are all set up exactly where they agreed on a few days back, near the Resolute Desk but not blocking it, but he’s not sure if he should send her to the navy blue bed or keep her at his side.

“Here’s today’s schedule, approved by Leo,” the President starts in a more serious tone than before, handing Josh the paper in his hand. “I’ve starred the meetings in which I expect Abby to be leashed at your side for various reasons. For all the others, use your best judgment, but I’d like to avoid her leaving her bed to come to you during a meeting if we can plan ahead at all. If you take her vest off, don’t put it back on during a meeting. If we come across a situation I don’t like, we’ll discuss it later and work out how to handle it in the future. Any problem with this plan?”

“No, sir.” Josh scans the schedule, impressed it got condensed to a single page, even if it is front and back. He pats his chest pocket, then grimaces and looks at the President. “Sir, can I make a couple notes on here? With your pen?”

The President shakes his head with a small smile. “That’s your copy; do as you like. How many times, though, have I told you to keep a pen in your shirt pocket? I’ll let it slide today, since I’m sure you had other things on your mind, but that is how you become a man in politics.” He retrieves the pen from his own pocket and offers it to Josh, who stars two more meetings before folding the schedule and slipping it into his suit coat’s inner pocket and returning the pen.

“Thank you, sir. Abby, looks like you’re free for now. Mat.” He unclips her leash and shoves it untidily into his pocket as she trots to the bed, sniffs it, and circles before lying down facing Josh. He considers the vest still on her but decides to leave it at least for the first day so people are reminded not to interact with her - which they hopefully wouldn’t do in a presidential meeting, but the reminder never hurts. He crosses to her space and pours some water from a jug into one of the bowls sitting beside the bed.

“Ready?”

Josh flushes and hurries to his customary spot on the wall. “I’m sorry, sir. In the future, I’ll be sure you aren’t waiting on us. And yes, we are both ready.”

President Bartlet laughs. “Richardson deserves to be kept waiting, or he’ll think the White House is at his beck and call. Still, we don’t want to delay the schedule too much….” He sighs, then draws himself up and gathers around him that air of authority Josh wishes he had. “Charlie!”

 

Josh smiles to himself, carefully drops Abby’s leash with the hand signal for stay, and tiptoes up to the diligent blonde head bent over a desk full of work. He’s not sure what it means that she isn’t in his office now when he knows she was all day, but it’s certainly easier to sneak up on her when she’s in the bullpen.

“Hello, Josh.”

He freezes with one arm an inch away from touching her shoulder. “Wha- You … How did you know?” he asks as she turns her chair to regard him with a smirk. He turns to bring his dog into his line of sight and commands, “Abby, get leash. Good girl. Come.” He holds his hand out for delivery of the leash in her mouth and rubs her ears when she completes her task. “Donna, come on. How did you know?”

“I will always know when you’re trying to sneak up on me, Joshua,” she says, smirk growing at his frustration. “It’s one of my many skills. You, however, do not have these skills. Just like you don’t have the skill of sneaking up on me.” She laughs at his spluttered response and lets her expression fall into a softer smile rather than the smirk. “So how was your day? How was Abby?”

“It was good,” he replies with a smile to match hers. “I can’t tell you most of it—“

“Of course not,” Donna interjects, smile never wavering.

“Anyway, it was good, and Abby was great. Her alerts were nice and quiet, and we had already worked out both a chair for me to use and an exit strategy, both of which I ended up using. She - well, you probably don’t want details. Sorry.” He can feel the smile sliding off of his face as he realizes nobody else is going to be as passionate about his service dog’s good behavior as he is; nobody can relate to it in the slightest. He’s alone in this as surely as he’s alone in his disabilities that nobody understands, alone in forcing his way through life because there’s no easy channel for him that everyone around him seems to walk.

Donna frowns at him for a long moment, then reaches out and wraps her hand around his forearm. She tugs him gently to the side, then pushes him back until he’s half-sitting, half-leaning on the edge of her desk. “I want as much detail as you want to give me,” she tells him quietly but with a firm grip on his arm punctuated with a squeeze. “That applies to almost everything except baseball.”

He’s surprised when his first reaction isn’t a spirited defense of baseball. “Ahkay,” he answers with his lopsided grin that always makes her smile back; tonight is no different. His plan is to work on trusting the sentiment Donna just expressed. For now, it makes him feel a little bit less alone, and he’s embracing the feeling. “Well, Abby alerted me five times throughout the day. Three times, she did her light pressure task in that chair we set up for me, and that was enough to keep the, uh, issue, from getting any worse. We were right - when she’s doing light pressure, I can stay at least partially mentally engaged in the Oval Office, so that’s a win. One time, the light pressure wasn’t helping, and I knew it, but … I don’t want to try to explain my brain right now,” he trails off, staring at her hand wrapped around his forearm like it holds the answers to all of his problems.

“Then don’t,” she answers simply, squeezing his forearm again. He feels himself melt a little bit more into her desk.

“So she was doing light pressure, and it wasn’t working, so she kept alerting, and she escalated the alert.”

“That’s when she gets louder?” Donna asks.

Josh nods. “Or in my way, or in my face. She gets progressively more insistent and harder to ignore when she’s escalating.” Donna nods her understanding, and he continues the story. “She went all the way up to barking at me. In the Oval Office. It was … I was….” He shakes his head and moves past that thought, trusting Donna to either fill it in herself or leave it alone, and he wonders what it means that he doesn’t care which option she takes. “Remember that exit strategy I mentioned? The President scribbled something on a piece of paper and asked me to take it to … I don’t even know who he said. I remember he spoke to Abby, and she helped me get out by herding me to the door. She got me into the Outer Office before the meltdown really happened. And hey, I know Charlie’s your friend; how should I thank him for helping me? It turns out he’s really good at dealing with panic attacks. Almost as good as you.”

The hand on his forearm clenches down, and Josh almost flinches from the look on Donna’s face. “Why didn’t you call me?” she asks.

He curbs the impulse to take her hand in his own, not sure where that came from, but he does set his right hand on top of hers and rub lightly until she loosens her hold. “I didn’t think of it. I wasn’t really thinking at all at that point,” he answers with more honesty than he’d use for anyone else. “I guess nobody else thought of it, either.”

She looks even more upset at this, but her grip remains short of painful this time. “In the future, will you call me?”

He thinks for a long moment before answering, Donna’s eyes unwaveringly watching him. “Sometimes. Not if you’re at the Hill, but I’ll tell Mrs Landingham to call you in the future at your desk.”

“Okay. Fair enough,” she answers, still looking a bit upset. Josh resettles his hands so his fingers are between hers on his arm, and she shifts to bring their fingers all closer together, with more contact between fingers. “What about Abby’s last alert?”

Josh looks away from her, studies the glass wall behind her, and lets his fingers clutch whatever they want to. “We were on a short break. The President was throwing a Frisbee for Abby, and I was talking to him from a distance, so it ended up being a delayed alert. I was actually starting to notice by the time she ran over and alerted, so at least that ended the conversation easily. We ended up doing DPT - deep pressure therapy - behind the Resolute Desk for a full meeting, and not a short one. I was actually fine about halfway through, but I thought it would be better to come out in between meetings.”

Donna starts laughing, and as her hand goes lax in merriment, he releases her fingers from his. “No, not you,” she gasps out between peals of laughter. “I’m picturing the President and the Vice President and then BOOM! Surprise Josh and Abby!” As she falls into another round of laughter, Josh joins her. She doesn’t even know Hoynes like he does; the man startles very easily once he’s let his guard down, which he does in most of his presidential meetings that Josh has been privy to.

As her amusement settles, Donna leans forward in her chair, weight shifting to elbows on knees. “What aren’t you telling me?”

“I don’t want to tell you,” he replies as steadily as he can, and her mouth opens, probably to protest, but he pushes through as though he doesn’t notice. “One day, I’ll tell you. I promise that. Just not today, and probably not any time soon.” He holds eye contact with her for a long moment, then resists again the urge to take her hand. The President has him all mixed up after their conversation. “Please trust me, Donnatella.”

Nothing gets the last word in a serious conversation between them like a please or a full name; it’s practically unheard of to say both together. Donna studies his face for a long moment, long enough that, mixed with the direction their conversation turned, brings Abby to her feet for a quiet alert. Josh doesn’t break eye contact or turn his face away as he murmurs “Squish” quietly, welcoming the collie halfway onto his lap for light pressure. Because he’s not exactly sitting, he has to grab her paws and hold them far enough up his legs that she can lean on his stomach. Donna is still watching with her face closed off, apparently judging his sincerity. He can’t remember ever telling her that he didn’t want to share something, only that he couldn’t.

“You’re that anxious about my answer?” she finally asks, and Josh pulls Abby a little bit closer.

“About this entire conversation,” he corrects. “After the President gave me this talk, more than a conversation, Abby had to task behind the desk. I’d rather not end up on the floor here.” He looks around at the surprisingly huge amount of crumbs and trash decorating the bullpen floor and shudders for emphasis.

“Do we need to go into your office? It’s a lot cleaner.” Probably only because he wasn’t in it, he thinks with a laugh.

“No, I’m good. Especially once we’re done with this topic.”

Donna sighs and leans closer to him. She reaches out and takes his right hand from Abby’s fur slowly, giving his left time to reposition to hold the service dog more securely. She holds his hand like she’s about to shake it, but two fingers slide out to his inner wrist; Josh huffs a tiny laugh when he realizes she’s taking his pulse, not holding his hand. Of course. Stupid conversation. Stupid Pre— no, he can’t even think that in the safety of his head, too much respect.

“Yeah, you’re not doing too badly,” Donna agrees, and it takes him a second to backtrack off calling the President names and find the topic to which she’s referring, his pulse.

“Abby is outright amazing,” he tells her, because she is in general, but she’s also doing a good job of leaning just right to calm him down despite never having practiced in this sort of position before.

Donna releases his hand and hovers over Abby for a second at a fairly large distance. “May I?”

He considers for a moment: Abby’s actively tasking right now, which usually means no touching, but this is Donna, who dresses Abby and walks Abby and gives Abby commands when he can’t talk or breathe. He nods.

Donna strokes Abby a couple of times from vest to tail, then worms a hand in between Josh’s on her shoulder and roots around until long hairs are wrapped around her fingers; it’s a favorite activity of Josh’s when he’s getting overwhelmed. She stares at her own fingers, not looking up as she starts to talk (another Josh favorite). “I do trust you, so I’ll trust you in this. I was shocked and hurt when you said you didn’t want to tell me, but I’ll trust you. There’s nothing in the type of relationship we have that says you have to tell me everything, anyway. I don’t know why I expected that. So half my hurt is from having to redefine our relationship, which is stupid because it’s been the same relationship from day one and shouldn’t have confused me today.”

“I didn’t aim to hurt you,” he tells her through a tight throat when she seems to be finished with her short speech. “I really—“

“I know. It’s okay,” Donna interrupts, and Josh takes one of his hands off his service dog to tip her chin up. He can usually read her like a book, despite his total inability to understand most women beyond the most obvious, and it’s not actually okay with her, however hard she’s trying to pretend it is. He wants to lean in forehead to forehead and tell her why he won’t tell her - except to explain is to reveal. He takes a deep breath and tries anyway, still holding her chin in lieu of putting his face on hers.

“It’s nothing bad, and it’s about you, and I don’t want to tell you because I don’t want the President’s opinion or my wishes to affect your choices,” he tries.

“Okay,” she says again, and this time he believes her. He strokes her cheek with his thumb before he can think better of it, and she takes his hand and moves it from her face. “Are you done with Abby?”

“Abby, off,” he commands in reply, standing as soon as the dog clears his lap. Donna rises with him, releases his hand, and steps in to wrap her arms around his waist. As she presses her face to his shoulder, he sweeps her hair to one side, rests his cheek on her head, and pulls her closer with arms around her shoulders.

The moment he starts to wonder what his desk looks like, Donna releases him and steps back. He realizes she’s always done that, somehow known his thoughts, and he vows not to let his mind wander in a hug if for no reason other than to see how long it would last then. “Are you—“

“I’m good. Your desk is clear, and so is mine. I was doing preliminary paperwork for you while I waited.”

He’s spent all day away from his desk, and it’s clear. Donna’s always done everything but meet with people to keep his desk clear on days he’s staffed the President, and now that he and Leo have approved her to meet with whomever she deems necessary and feels confident seeing, she’s managed to entirely run his office for the full day.

“Hey, Donna? Thanks for today and every other time you’ve done this.” 

If he had to choose a word to describe her face, he’d probably go with gobsmacked, and not entirely because he likes the sound of the word. He waits a full minute before asking, “You okay?”

“Yeah,” she replies, expression unchanging. “Just … wondering why you said that?”

Josh shrugs, trying to play it down. “You did well today, and you always have, but especially today with taking the meetings. So, you know, I realize how much I rely on you, how much you’ve always done for me that isn’t in your job description, and I figured you should know that. And I appreciate all that. So thanks for all that you do.”

Her expression slowly changes through his speech until it’s something a bit watery, but she doesn’t cry, to his extreme relief. “You’re welcome. You know your new assistant won’t do everything I do.”

“I know.” He offers her a grin, glad when it’s met with a smile. “I’m torn between taking full advantage while I still can or doing a step-down program like addicts do.”

Donna’s return grin manages to be sarcastic. “So what you’re saying is that you’re addicted to me?”

His grin falters, but he pastes it back on quickly enough that she doesn’t react. It’s a struggle to find the balance between sincere but not too sincere. “I plead the fifth,” he manages to reply.

“That’s what I thought.”

He drops the grin and falls into his neutral, serious, working face. “Head on home, Donna. I assume we have a full day tomorrow?”

“Actually, it’s a pretty light day, but Leo said he has a stack of non-urgent things we can work on for him,” Donna answers. “Josh, there’s literally nothing on your desk. We should both go home. It’s so late it’s early.”

He frowns and checks the time. “Yeah, let’s delay starting tomorrow by an hour if we can?”

“We can. Come on, I even brought your coat out here.”

Josh lets her help him into his coat, helps her into her coat, and lets her walk out with her arm tucked through his elbow. It’s a familiar ritual, and it’s not until the security guard says, “Goodnight, Donna, Josh, Abby,” in a tone that practically screams ‘I’m accustomed to seeing you leave together like this’ that he misses a step and nearly pulls Donna over. He apologizes distractedly, very much aware that they’ve walked to the parking lot like this enough times for it to become commonplace - and he hasn’t even noticed it happening. He thinks about moving her hand, but he really can’t refuse the position without calling attention to it. He probably wouldn’t have even noticed it tonight if not for the President’s discussion with him earlier in the day; there are lots of things he’s noticing tonight that nobody else has ever seemed surprised about. Maybe this is a sort of holding pattern for the two of them, the farthest they can escalate their ill-defined relationship while she works for him.

But she’s moving to work for Leo soon. If this is their holding pattern, that will be the catalyst to change it. He can ignore the President’s words for now, but probably not for long, not if Donna decides to take the initiative as their working relationship shifts.

He’s not going to have a panic attack thinking about it tonight, at least, but he should probably find a way to stop panicking before the ground moves beneath him.


End file.
